


bloodied lips

by LovelyLessie



Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/LovelyLessie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>then: back in steve's apartment, after a fight, tending each other's wounds</p>
            </blockquote>





	bloodied lips

"You know, you’re a goddamn idiot," Bucky says, and slams the door behind him. "The hell are you gonna do when I’m not around to save your ass?"

"End up in the hospital, probably," Steve says as he strips off his jacket and gingerly steps out of his shoes. "You’ll have to visit me every day. Buy me flowers."

Bucky rolls his eyes and bites down on the start of a smile. “Sit down,” he says, “and don’t you try to do anything, alright? I’ll be right back.”

"You got no right to yell at me for getting hurt when you’re no better off!" Steve yells after him as he ducks into the kitchen. "You oughta be sitting down yourself, stupid!"

"You first," Bucky calls. "Then you can fuss over me all you want."

"How come?" Steve asks, glaring at the wall between the front room and the kitchen. 

"Cause that’s the rules," Bucky says, and emerges with a cloth and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Your leg okay? You were limping on the stairs."

"It’s fine," Steve says. "Just achey, is all."

"Alright, if you say so," Bucky says. "Gimme your hands."

Steve offers them, palms down, and grits his teeth in preparation as Bucky upends the bottle. “Ow, fuck,” he hisses when the alcohol burns his bloodied knuckles.

"Hey, language," Bucky says dryly, wiping the blood carefully from Steve’s hand. "Hold still." 

"Asshole," Steve mutters as he cleans off the other hand, but he’s being gentle, at least, a delicate touch in his hands he rarely shows to anyone.

"Let’s see your face," Bucky says, and whistles when Steve lifts his head. "Bastard busted your lip pretty bad, huh."

"Yeah." He runs his tongue over where it’s split open and bleeding, all rust running into his mouth and down his chin, and cracks a smile. "You gonna kiss it better?"

Bucky laughs. “You want me to?” he asks, teasing, his eyes sparkling.

"Um," Steve says, and feels his face heat up. "I - I mean - well - "

Another laugh, and Bucky catches Steve’s face with his hand, thumb tucked under his jaw. He’s still got a funny crooked smile on, and his teeth draw over his lower lip slowly. Steve swallows hard. A beat passes.

Bucky leans forward, just a little, just enough to brush his lips across Steve’s. “Better?” he asks, all bravado, and he’s grinning, and there’s blood bright red on his lips.

Steve can’t speak.

"This’ll sting," Bucky says, and presses the washcloth against Steve’s mouth.

It does sting, and the smell of ethanol gets in his nose and mouth, strong enough to make him recoil. “Thanks,” he mutters, making a face. Bucky’s not looking; he’s gazing vaguely at his hands instead.

"You bleeding anywhere else?" he asks.

"Don’t think so," Steve says. "You?"

"Nah. Just bruised up, that’s all," Bucky says, shaking his head. "Say, how ‘bout a drink?"

"Sure," Steve agrees. "I think we’ve still got some of that whiskey."

"That ain’t whiskey," Bucky says, jumping up. "But I think you’re right. Let me go get it."

He runs off to the kitchen and comes back with two glasses and the bottle, almost empty. “That enough for both of us?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Sure," Bucky says, and sets the glasses on the table while he wrestles with the stopper. With a grunt he pulls it free and splashes cheap whiskey into both their glasses.

"You’ve got twice as much as me," Steve complains as he tips the last drop into his own glass.

"That’s cause I’m twice as big as you," Bucky says. "Suck up, you get drunk on half a shot."

"I do not."

"Do too." He takes a sip and makes a face. "This is shitty liquor."

"Give it to me, if you don’t want it," Steve replies, and studies his drink before taking a sip. 

"Nah," Bucky says. "It’s not that shitty."

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Cheers,” he says, and raises his glass.

"Cheers," Bucky agrees.


End file.
